


The Affair

by codewc



Series: Wedding Blues [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Creepy Jim, Dialogue Heavy, Greg Lestrade & John Watson Friendship, I feel bad for her man, John is a little less confused, Lovestruck Jim, M/M, One-Sided Phone Sex, Phone Sex, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship, Sherlock is the stable one for once, poor mary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-12 12:33:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7103536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codewc/pseuds/codewc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John visits his spouse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Affair

 John Hamish Watson has been in contact with the most dangerous man in London for the past three months. 

Through emails, calls and texts. As soon as John receives them and replies to them, they're deleted. His call history is blank, his inbox is filled with spam.

Mary doesn't know a thing.

Sherlock knows - why wouldn't he know? "My brother is in the government,"he said. "Have you read them?"John asked. "Please, John, if I wanted to read Jim's little love letters to you I think I'd lose my mind. Don't make this more awkward than it already is,"Sherlock answered. 

"Is it awkward for you?"John asked. Sherlock sighed, folding the paper. "So many questions today. Listen, John, whatever guilt you have over me and Jim - I want you to drop it, now. As far as I can tell, Jim doesn't want you involved in his business. He just wants attention. Give it to him."

"But-"-drop it. There's a chance that this might not end well, and that both you and Jim will be very upset. But there's also a chance that Jim is so smitten with you that it'll overpower everything else. And what with your record lately, I'm aiming for the latter. Just give him attention."

John cranes his neck and thinks for a moment. "You want me to use him."

"If using him means protecting you and solving our problems, then yes. Use him." 

John doesn't know why that made him upset, but it did. He got up to leave and had an urge to slam the door behind him when he hears "Oh cmon, John!" from the living room.

 

* * *

 

 

John still remembers Jim from IT.

He remembers what a splattered mess he was. Stammering about, obviously making eyes at Sherlock in front of his girlfriend (to be fair, she was making eyes too.)

He felt sorry for this bloke, getting on the defensive when Sherlock spotted the obvious like the dick he is. There was a pity there.

He remembers that one time Jim from IT looked at John.

John wonders if that's when Jim Moriarty fell in love with him. 

 

 

"Ridiculous."

* * *

 

_"I knew it wouldn't work, but I just  got swept along. And then we moved to Florida. We had a fantastic time, but of course, I didn't know what he was up to. Drugs....he ran a, uh, what you call it? Um. Uh. A cartel.  Got into a really bad crowd. And then I found out about all the other women.  I didn't have a clue. So when he was arrested for blowing someone's head off....I was quite relieved, to be honest. It was PURELY physical between me and Frank. We couldn't keep our hands off each other. I know, there was this one night...."_

 

* * *

 

 

The phone's ringing makes the baby cry. Mary cradles the baby, calls for John to answer it. John slips out to the lawn, ready to tell Sherlock off. 

Embarrassingly enough, it isn't Sherlock. 

"Oh, Johnny,"Jim moans, and the static makes John think he's breathing against the speaker. "Moriarty,"John mutters, squinting at the darkness. "What the _hell_ are you _doing?_ "

Jim moans again and John can hear him shifting, can hear creaking. "Call me Jim, Johnny. Say it in that scolding voice, please."

John pinches the bridge of his nose, huffing. Fuck's sake. 

"Mary is practically a room away-"- _oh_. Oh, Johnny." John could hear slick sounds and stops himself from thinking anything of it. 

"Can she hear me? Can your wife hear me moan your name through the speaker? God, Johnny."

John can feel a small spike of arousal hit him, but he pushes it down. He moves closer to the fence, trying to be as far away from his wife and child as possible. 

"Have you had sex with her tonight? Was it good, Johnny?"

John takes a deep breath and feels a calm. A calm that got him through the war, Sherlock's death and will get him through Jim Moriarty's infatuation with him. 

"Stop talking about Mary. This isn't about her. This is about you and me, Jim. Understand?"

Jim gasps, the sounds of panting filling a minute. "What do you want, Jim? What is this about?"

There's a silence again as John hears more shifting, more creaking. 

"Oh, Johnny, I want to see you. I want to feel you and smell you. I want you to look at me like you did at that court case - _ah_ \- and, fuck, use that angry militant voice when you call me by m-my name. I want you. S-so bad, Joh- _ah AH._ Please come to me, John. I-I'd let you choose. Oh fuck, Johnny. If you say yes I'll  _\- o h god  -_ I'll send you the info. No one has to know J-John. Just us. F-fuck  _yes OH_ Go-"

There's a thud. John assumes Jim dropped his phone and takes a moment to steady his own breathing. 

Forget what Jim was doing - what was _John_ doing? Here he is, in the dark, leaning against his family fence, listening to Jim Moriarty get off. Listening to his own heavy breathing and heart pounding at the risk of getting caught by his wife. Of the risk of being caught wanting to hear more. Wanting Jim more.

When Jim comes back, John is sure he isn't sporting a tent and has half the right mind not to hang up on Jim just yet. 

"This was brilliant, John, really. Give my best wishes to M-"

"Yes."

".....excuse me? What was that, John?"

"I want to see you, too."

 

 

"Who was that, John? Hey now, don't go whipping about." John looks at Mary after zipping up his jacket and glanced down at the baby and then back at Mary. "It was Sherlock. He's having a fit." Mary nods. She kisses John's cheek before he's out the door.

John tries to convince himself that he hasn't entirely lied to Mary. He _did_ go to Sherlock's flat. He _did_ sleep over at Sherlock's flat. And he _did_ notice Mary's surprised face when she comes looking for him in Sherlock's flat the next morning.

 

* * *

 

 

"Do you hate your wife?"John mutters over a pint with Greg. The detective looks at John, confused and bemused. "What now?"

"Do you hate your ex-wife,"John repeats. "I mean, she cheated on you. Lots of times."

Greg takes a long moment and then shrugs. "No, I couldn't do that, John. And besides, our marriage was shit anyways."

It's quiet for a while and when John clears his throat, Greg clarifies; "I mean, just because she cheated on me doesn't automatically make me a terrible husband. I was working too much and she cared about that less and less. We got bored of each other. I was shitty for taking my marriage for granted and she was shitty for not breaking things off sooner. Doesn't mean I can hate her. Doesn't mean I'd take her back."

"Is she a horrible person for that? For cheating?"John questions. Questions himself for even having to ask that.

"I dunno," Greg sips, "I mean, uh....cheating is terrible and it's inexcusable, but she's moved on. We're people, John, we're bound to do shitty things. Some people are pushed into it more easily than others, but it happens to everyone. If she didn't change, then she'd be terrible. Doesn't make what she did was right, though."

John nods at that and orders another pint. "Why do you ask? You don't think Mar-"-oh, oh no, Greg. I was just...curious. This whole marriage business is still a mystery to me, I guess."  Greg rests a hand on John's shoulder. "Just - you can talk to me, ya know? Whenever you need, John."

"I know, Greg. I know."

 

* * *

 

 "Go and see him."

John almost jumped out of his seat. He looked up at Sherlock who was leaning over him. He had an expression on his face that John couldn't quite read. 

"So you _have_ been reading them."

"Ah, so you were already considering. Thank you for telling me."  _Fuck's sake._

John decided to just shut up and waited for Sherlock to continue. Sherlock didn't, though, and just stared back at John. 

After a while, John sighed and shifted in his seat. "So maybe I want to see him." "Why?"

"Why? Didn't you just tell me you want me to see him?"

"Well,"Sherlock stepped aside to sit across from John, "yes, but I _know_ why I want you to. Why do _you_ want to?"

John's brow creased and he glanced at his hands dumbly. It takes him a moment to really try and think about this. Whatever he says now could mean a lot. Maybe too much.

He never tells his own goddamn therapist about this. Bloody hell.

"I want him alone,"he settles on. "Whenever we meet it's either about you or Mary. It can never be about just....us. If that's even a thing. I can't really believe him unless we're alone, right?"

When he meets Sherlock's eyes again, Sherlock gives him a look that makes John feel a little too confident. 

"No external influences,"Sherlock whispers. "I see."

Sherlock got up and made his way to the kitchen, leaving John a little less confused than he normally does.

 

* * *

 

 _Saturday at 8 PM._ Unknown, 10:08 AM

Sounds good. John Watson, 2:13 PM

 _Call me a whore when I come._ Unknown, 2:14 PM

I'm glad you delete these. John Watson, 3:02 PM

* * *

 

Mary had a place to be. John had a place to be. 

The baby didn't.

John has never felt so nervous in an interview. Mary is as calm as ever.

John wants to ask Sherlock to pick one. Mary wants John to just pick one.

Just pick one.

 

* * *

 

 

_You're abnormally attracted to dangerous situations and people._

 

* * *

 

 

 

John had been stood up. 

He'd been waiting here for hours now. What was he meant to do with himself? 

He couldn't go back; he lied and told Mary that he was on a case (Sherlock's idea). He couldn't stay here; he felt like a fool.

After cautiously walking about the apartment for what felt like the hundredth time that night, he decided to go to sleep. 

 He lingered by the sofa for a while. Stood next to it, staring at it and he thinks that he's thinking when really he's not. When in actuality he was already convinced that he'd take the bed upstairs instead because John could care less than a fuck about crossing his boundaries after being tail coated by Jim Moriarty for the past three months and then being stood up.

 _Fuck the sofa_ , he thought as he climbed under the bed covers. 

John felt rejected.

 

* * *

 

 He estimated a good two hours passed before someone else was in the flat.

He heard footsteps nearing him, the door clicking open and a weight on the bed.

It had to be Jim. It couldn't be anyone but Jim.

"Oh, Johnny,"he heard. "You're still here."

John couldn't feel hands anywhere near him, just a shift of the weight on the bed and he could sense that Jim was leaning over him, hesitantly. 

"You sweetheart."

John felt like enveloping into himself - running off like Irene Adler and just hiding away for an eternity. What was he _doing?_

Jim sighed. "You're full of surprises, aren't you John? You shot that cabbie and now you're sleeping in my bed. I didn't believe it when they said you were still here. Why are you still here?"

He didn't answer. He hoped that Jim would muse his sleeping guise just for a bit longer.

"I..."Jim shifted again, "I meant to break it off sooner. That night when I called you. It's quite embarrassing. It was going so good, too. Wooing you, coming back to life and all...then I got scared. Can you believe it? I'm _scared._ "

Then he felt the hand. It was on John's shoulder. A shaky, gripping hand. 

"You convinced me that there was a chance that we wouldn't work out."

 _How?_ John thought.  _All I've done is take your gestures like an idiot._

"I just... do you know how smitten I am with you, John? What a charmer you are? You're not just Three States for nothing, you know."

He could feel that hand leaving his shoulder and then the weight shifted again. John figured that Jim was properly sitting next to him now.

"God, John - I'm scared of how much I want you,"his breath was shuddery. "I changed my mind on tonight so many times. I never make bad decisions, but I've properly mucked it up, haven't I? See why I'm scared? First, you shot a cabbie, now you're in my bed. First, I strapped you to a bomb, now I've got all heartstrings and serenade for you. It's scary."

John couldn't help but understand. He felt his chest tighten and his stomach lurch. He understands.

It's quiet for a long while before Jim sighs again. 

"I want to take you to Maine. We could live in a cottage, you taking up a job in Belfast and I'd visit as often as I could. Hell, I'd drop clients to just come and see you if you asked, John. I'd love to see your face when you come home to find me waiting for you. I want to hear about your day, John. Like some kind of housewife - oh, that'd be wonderful. Just you and me in Maine, Johnny....or just anything you'd want."

John felt too hot. He blamed it on the blankets. Maybe he's caught something. 

"Johnny - if it's about Sherlock, you could still solve cases with him. We could keep going like now. I'm not unfamiliar with long distance."

No, not right. What was John thinking?

"It's Mary and the baby, isn't it? I don't mind the baby, John. You make such a cute father. If you're worried about Mary....I can still give her work, make sure she's alright. You'll want to stay in touch...."

John felt a random urge to correct Jim. He wasn't sure why and instead stayed still as he could feel Jim roll over and press his chest to John's back. His nose near John's lobe, a hand on his side. 

"God, look what I'm doing. You know, I hated what Sherlock did. The night you found out about Mary. She told me how he tried to convince you -tried to wring your head around staying with her. Like it was your fault. But I'm not any better, am I?"

John knew now that Jim knew he was awake. He shifted his hand to lay atop Jim's. 

"Did he convince you to come here? To come and see me? I think I'd start to cry if that were true. You're still here - you, you didn't call Mycroft or anyone when you knew I wasn't coming. Didn't think it was a trick of sorts, did you, John? Please, John, why are you here?"

John shifted then, leaned his head back and raised himself onto his elbows so that he could kiss Jim.

He was kissing Jim Moriarty, and before he knew it he was leaning back from the kiss and said, "Maine sounds lovely."

 

* * *

 

_Because you chose her._

* * *

 

 

Mary looked at John.

John looked at Mary.

She sighed, her hands wrung together.

"This isn't working, John."

He took her hand, squeezed it. 

"I know."

 

* * *

 

 

Sherlock looked up from the paper and smugly smiled at John standing in the doorway. 

"Jim and John,"he singsonged. "Sitting in a tree."

 


End file.
